


The Arcana Drabbles

by jccreates



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eventual Romance, F/M, Humor, Idiots in Love, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, OT3, Other, Post-Plague, Pre-Story, Romance, Suggestive Themes, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-08 15:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17388707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jccreates/pseuds/jccreates
Summary: A collection of short fics based on The Arcana





	1. Restless

She was restless tonight. The bed they shared in the living space above the shop creaked with every toss and turn. The movement kept Asra awake, but he didn’t mind. Every jostle, every mumble, it was a reminder that she was really here. He longed to reach out and hold her tight just like he used to, whispering over and over how much he loved her until she fell back into a peaceful sleep, but he didn’t dare. Not now. Instead, he just watched and listened. Lyra let out a grunt as she rolled over once again, this time facing him. She always did make the most curious noises while she slept, Asra mused. Another sound, this one a whimper. He carefully studied her face in the moonlight seeping in from the window. She looked distressed, brow furrowed and breath getting shallow. Watching Lyra suffer like this, not being able to tell her the cause of her nightmares, it was unbearable. He knew he shouldn’t, but he leaned in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, resting her chest partially on his and splaying her arm across his body in an almost protective manner. Asra could feel her heartbeat against his own, hers beginning to steady while his was racing. This was not new, it only felt like it. The countless nights they spent in this exact position, before… “I thought you had forgotten.” He whispered, barely audibly, into her hair. Lyra didn’t stir, just let out a contented hum in her sleep. He sighed, daring to kiss the top of her head. Of course she didn’t really remember. She couldn’t. But in the dark, lying together in this familiar manner, it was easy to let himself pretend.


	2. Morning Views

_THUD._

Her eyes flew open at the sudden, unexpected sound. She sat up in bed, searching the room for its source. Much to her surprise, her gaze lead her to a shirtless Asra, climbing up one of the bookshelves in their living area.

She wondered what he was doing, but then felt a playful joy radiating from a spot above him where a certain snake was holding his shirt just out of reach.

 _“Catch!”_  Faust slithered a little further away as fingertips approached.

Asra let our a quiet laugh as he stretched a bit further. “I’m trying!” He whispered, trying in vain to not wake the woman he believed to still be asleep.

Once she got past the absurdity of the situation, she was able to focus on the real sight before her — namely, a half naked Asra stretching across the bookshelf. She bit her lip, taking in the way the soft morning light played across the compact muscles of his back. His fluffy hair was still messy from sleep and she so badly wanted to run her fingers through it. Not to mention the way the back of his pants were pulled tight from one leg stepping up on a higher shelf…

Feeling her thirsty eyes drinking in every drop of him, Asra turned his head in her direction, her gaze shooting back up to meet his. The corners of his mouth quirked upward and a light blush spread across his cheeks. “Good morning, Lyra. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, don’t mind me.” She replied with a wolfish grin, “Just enjoying the view.”

“Ohh, is that so?” That mischief she loved so shone in his eyes. “And are you planning on helping me?”

“Hmm… no.” She leaned back on her forearms, eyes skimming back down his body, making him laugh. “No, I’m quite happy where I am, thank you.”

“Well as long as you’re happy, I’m,” He shot his arm out in an attempt to take Faust by surprise, “Happy.” His reach missed and he began to wobble precariously. She leapt out of bed and lunged forward, trying to catch him before he fell.

“Oof!” She let out a groan as Asra landed on her, softly yet with enough force to knock the pair of them to the floor.

“Heh.” He leaned back, pressing his warm back into her chest and nuzzling his face in her neck. “My hero.”

Her eyes widened with realization. “ _Asra_. Did you fall on purpose?”

“Hmm?” He peered up at her with a seemingly innocent expression, but she knew him better than that.

“Asra!” Laughing, she brushed his fluffy hair out of the way and kissed his forehead. “You’re just as bad as Faust.”

At the sound of her name, Faust made her way over, shirt still held in the coils of her tail.

“Are you finally surrendering, Faust?” Asra asked, craning his head to get a look.

Lyra quickly grabbed the shirt and tossed it underneath the bed. “Nope, looks like she must’ve, uh, stashed it somewhere on her way down.” She forced down a smile as she trailed her hand down his bare chest

Now it was Asra’s turn to look at her with suspicion. She quickly leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers in hopes of distracting him from his missing shirt with a kiss. Or two. Or three.


	3. Unwinding

“I am  _exhausted_.” Lyra let out a deep sigh as she entered her guest room at the palace.

Though Nadia insisted on giving him his own room next door, Asra followed right behind, never far from her side. “One would never know from looking at you. You look gorgeous.”

“Asra. I’m covered in dirt, sweat, and,” She sniffed her shirt and recoiled away, “I don’t even want to know what else.”

“It only adds to your allure.  _What has this mysterious beauty been up to all day?_ ”

Lyra snorted, though her heart fluttered at the compliment (and the accompanying look in his eyes). “More like what  _hasn’t_  she.”

Nadia had been focusing all her efforts on rebuilding the parts of the city that have fallen into disrepair after the plague hit, and had enlisted the help of her two favorite magicians. Today was spent seeing what could be done about the Flooded District. The work was incredibly rewarding, but it took a lot out of them.

“You’re right, it’s been a long day.” Asra came up behind her, lovingly rubbing the tension out of her shoulders, “Why don’t we help each other unwind?” He placed a barely-there kiss on the back of her neck that sent shivers running up her spine.

“Mmm.” She sighed, leaning into his touch. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, Lyra. What  _don’t_  I have in mind? But if we’re sticking with things that are possible in  _this_  realm…” He gently spun her in his arms, pressing his forehead against hers, eyes alight with mischief. “Why don’t we see if Nadia’s private bath is available?”

“I like that idea.” Lyra brushed her lips against his before gently trailing them up his jawline, causing him to inhale sharply. When she reached his ear, she whispered, “You stink, too.”

Asra’s dimples flashed as he let out a surprised laugh, and Lyra stepped back, pushing off his chest with a smirk. She tossed a wink over her shoulder as she slinked out of the room.


	4. Unexpected

Julian never did sleep much. Though he often felt tired, he could rarely fall asleep. Instead he spent his nights pacing, lost in his own mind. Mazelinka had to practically pour her special soup down his throat to get him to catch a few hours’ rest now and then. But recently, he found it harder and harder to tear himself out of bed. He figured it may have something to do with the two warm bodies pressed up against either side of him.

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine this. That these two brilliant, exquisite, and occasionally maddening magicians would choose to be with  _him_. He tried to fight it at first, sabotage it as he did all good things in his life, but they were endlessly patient—the apprentice with their bold stubbornness, Asra with his calm reassurances. They saw something in him that he didn’t quite see himself, still had trouble seeing at times: Something worth loving. And he loved them both in return, so much that he thought his heart might burst at times.

The apprentice’s eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across their face. “Mmm… good morning, Julian.”

“Good morning, darling.” He greeted, clearing his throat slightly to cover the thick, emotional tone his voice had taken on. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well,” they replied, snuggling in closer still before looking up at him with a raised brow. “Did you sleep at all?”

“I was dead to the world, my dear. Er, in the figurative sense of course.” Julian added, seeing the severe look on their face.

He felt their stomach shake in silent laughter, “One never knows with you. Asra?” They asked, craning their neck slightly.

“Still asleep.” He reached down to brush an unruly white curl off of Asra’s forehead. Though Asra smiled lightly at the touch, Julian knew he wouldn’t wake.

“Of course he is. He could sleep through an earthquake.”

“You should get back to sleep, too,” Julian said softly, stroking their back, “You’ve got a while until the shop opens.”

“But I want to keep you company.” They protested, eyes already fluttering closed due to his calming touch.

“Ah, you know I am completely capable of keeping myself company. In fact, I once spent an entire week locked up in the brig of a ship with nothing to entertain myself with but my own thoughts. It’s quite a funny story actually…” He spoke softly until their breathing returned to a slow and steady rhythm, until he was sure they were asleep once more.

At times the voice in the back of Julian’s head still whispered to him, telling him to run, that they were better off without him. But one look at their faces, and that voice simply faded away.

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like,” he whispered, gently leaning down to press a light kiss to Asra’s forehead, then the apprentice’s, “And I am eternally grateful.”


	5. A Letter

Asra,

I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to write you back. I had to work out what I wanted to say, where I wanted to begin. I figured the best place to start was with this: I love you.

I was surprised to get your letter, and even more surprised to hear that you’re coming back home. I’m a bit embarrassed to say I cried at the news. Of course I can forgive you and as painful as it was, I understand why you had to leave. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the things I said as well. I was upset and I didn’t mean them.

It’s quite lonely here without you and Faust, but I’ve been keeping busy. I began working in a local clinic as an apprentice to one of the most renowned plague doctors in Vesuvia—the one we met at the masquerade, Dr. Devorak. I know right about now you’re making that concerned, disapproving face of yours, but it’s the perfect chance for you to prove what you said about understanding my reasons. Asra, I’m helping people. I’m making a difference. This is exactly why I wanted to stay behind. Dr. Devorak is… well, you remember. But he is a kind man who does impressive work, and I’m learning so much. I’m hoping to figure out some way to incorporate my magic into healing. Maybe I’ll be able to teach you some new tricks for once by the time you get here.

That said, I don’t want to write all my news in this letter, better to leave some stories to tell in person (I’m sure you’ll certainly have a few of your own). But before I go, I want to make something clear: It isn’t true, what you wrote. You haven’t lost me. I’ll be waiting right here when you get back. I can’t wait to see you.

All my love, always,

Lyra


	6. Sleep

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I feel like I’m being hypnotized as my eyes followed the non-stop pacing of the man in front of me.

“Julian!” I call out, stopping him in his tracks. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, my dear.” Julian says, dropping down onto the sofa next to me, long legs folding under him, “I’m powerless to stop this noggin from running sometimes. And that can tend to lead to, er, pacing.”

I close my book in my lap and observe him. Though he’s sitting still, his knee is jiggling; I can tell he’s itching to start walking around again. But even with all his nervous energy, I notice that the dark circles around his eyes are even more pronounced than usual.

“Julian, when was the last time you slept?”

“Why, I—”

“ _Really_ slept.”

“Er, well, that is… I’m not sure.” He confesses, blush spreading up his cheeks.

“That’s it.” I stand and hand him my book, “Stay here and read this. I’m going to make you a cup of tea to help you calm down.”

A few minutes later when I emerge from the kitchen, Julian is back up again, walking around the room.

“A _hem_.” I clear my throat and raise an eyebrow at him as he shoots me a sheepish look.

“Darling, I tried. But that book was just a bunch of boring, mystical mumbo jumbo.”

“That was the point.” I say with a sigh, placing the chipped mug down and draping my arms around his shoulders, “Reading something boring is supposed to help make you tired.”

“Some things are too boring even for that. Now,” He pulls me in a bit closer, pressing his forehead against mine with a roguish grin on his face, “I’m sure there are far more interesting ways to get me to fall asleep.”

I lean into him, tilting my head until my lips are a hair’s breadth away from his, before swerving to place the warm mug in his hands. “Like tea?”

I laugh at his surprised, disappointed expression, and guide him gently up to the bedroom.

“Taya, if you wanted to get me into bed, you could’ve just asked.”

I roll my eyes and give his rear a quick smack, and a tiny bit of tea splashes to the floor. I can tell from the back of his ears how fiercely he’s blushing.

“Sit.” I command when we reach the bed, and Julian willingly follows suit, “Boots off.”

He’s clearly enjoying this, biting his lower lip as he eagerly awaits the next order.

“Now, get under the covers and lie down.” I start to walk away from the bed but I’m stopped as a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Julian.”

“Yes, darling?” He smiles up at me shamelessly.

“ _Julian_.” I repeat more insistently.

“ _Taya_.”

“You need  _sleep_.”

“There are other things I need more.” He says, tugging me a bit closer.

A traitorous moan escapes my lips as he lifts my shirt and begins kissing just above my hip bone. I can’t help but tangle my hand in his auburn curls, giving a slight tug and causing him to release a moan of his own.

“Taya,” He looks up at me with a hungry expression, “ _Please_. It… It’ll help me sleep.”

I take in his flushed cheeks, his blown out pupils, and decide to indulge him, just this once.


	7. Undone

“If you want to run away and pretend all of this isn’t happening, be my guest. If you want out of this city so badly, Asra, then just  _leave_! But I’m staying.”

The last words she spoke rang in Lyra’s ears as she stood rooted in place, staring impassively at the closed door in front of her. She hadn’t moved when he stormed upstairs and threw his things in a bag, nor when he turned back, hand on the doorknob, violet eyes swimming in tears. She wanted to run and embrace him, tell him that everything was going to be alright—in the city, between them— but she couldn’t. She didn’t know that it would be. So she just stood in silence, gazed fixed on the ground.

As the minutes ticked towards an hour, she realized Asra wasn’t coming back. A hand flew up to her mouth as she let out a choked sob, collapsing to her knees in that very same spot.


	8. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off the Nick Cave lyric prompt: "For still, the fare of love is true, and I am breathless without you"

Lyra had always been terrible at drawing. Her lines were unsteady, the images childlike. Asra would often tease her about it, but she would still doodled away anytime she was bored.

He still came across these little drawings every now and then. He’d be rifling through a drawer or opening a rarely used book and he’d find one. Sometimes they’d be a mess of lines and shapes, other times they’d be a crude sketch of Faust, and occasionally he’d even find some he was pretty sure were supposed to be of him. Every time Asra held one of those small pieces of paper in his hands it was like all the air disappeared from the world; his heart, the one that remained beating only for her, would race and his head would feel light. Though if he was being honest with himself, that feeling had been constantly present ever since she… ever since his last time seeing her.

He had the old tome cracked open on his nightstand, wanting to check the spell he already knew by heart one final time before leaving, when he noticed a piece of paper sticking out from the pages. Pulling it out, his breath caught in his throat. This one, he realized, was a self portrait—an attempt to capture the serious, thoughtful look that often featured on her face. He reached out with a shaky hand to trace the messy lines of her hair, the image before him blurring as his eyes filled with tears.

After a long moment, he placed the drawing in the drawer that contained all the others before picking up the mask that had been hers the last masquerade, fastening it to his head with a renewed determination.

It was going to work. It needed to work. And when it did, she’d be back, and he would be able to breathe again.


End file.
